


Half Alive (Hate And Love)

by rivaillin



Series: Hate And Love [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Odi et Amo, POV First Person, Side Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2455916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivaillin/pseuds/rivaillin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because sometimes all it takes is a smile from a complete stranger, or just a few words, and you’re saved in a thousand different ways.</p><p>A side story on Levi's POV about how Eren and Levi really met.<br/>OEA related.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half Alive (Hate And Love)

**Author's Note:**

> So, a lot of people were wondering about Levi and why he did what he did, acted the way he did. So why not write a few side stories on his POV of the story? Yeah, why not? Why not, they're just minisodes! Yeah, let's do this.

The first time I saw Eren was 5 years ago.

There was a park in the east part of the district I really liked. Whenever things got difficult back at home, I’d pick up my things and I’d walk there. In that day, in particular, I’d had fight with my father. Just another stupid argument to add to the list of reasons why I hated him.

I was 17 years old, and life at 17 is nothing but dramatically complicated. I knew I already had a thing to dramatize situations because everyone in my family seemed to be a huge drama queen, _somehow_ , and it ran in my blood, but in that day I was for the most part more pissed off and more angry than usual.

When I got there, I sat down on the bench under the big tree. The soft breeze helped me calm down. I took a deep breath and then leaned back on my seat. Cracked my notebook open and glanced down at the white page.

Drawing had always been an escape. Some people liked to run when they had their heads full with the shit of the world, like my sister, for example. Others liked to read and live lives that weren’t their own. I liked to draw and concentrate on the tiny details I’d trace, ignoring my problems and worse, my responsibilities.

Because I didn’t believe something was my duty if I didn’t choose it to be. Except for a couple of things in life that I couldn’t help, I liked to choose for myself what I’d invest my soul in. And my family wasn’t anywhere near my short, small list.

Two kids, probably around their 14s, were playing with a ball a few meters away. One of them was blonde. I noted I liked how fragile he looked, so I started to sketch him without even noticing it on a conscious level. The other boy had a darker skin tone. His hair looked like a damn nest and I found myself wondering if his mother knew he was leaving the house without combing it.

“Kick harder, Armin! What the fuck!” The brunette growled out loud. He had a pretty voice, for a kid. Boyish, in a way, and strong.

The other boy flailed and fell with his ass on the hard ground. “Ugh… I’m trying, ok? I’m trying!”

The brunette gave a loud sigh and paced to help his friend get up. “You’re going to fail P.E. if you can’t even do this…”

“Maybe I should just skip… I don’t know. It’s so useless, I can’t even—”

“What the—No! No way! I’ll help you out. Goddamn it, there’s no way I’m letting that happen. You hear me? You’re gonna pass and show those ass wipes what you can do!” He was about to let go of the other’s hand when the blonde kid squeezed it.

“No, Eren. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m just like a useless little girl who can’t even—”

“Armin,” the brunette’s voice dropped an octave and pitched since it hadn’t matured enough yet. It even sent a shiver down my spine. He pulled his friend closer and looked straight into his eyes. “I was serious when I said I won’t allow _nobody_ to belittle you. Not even yourself. So, next time you say that, _just one more time_ , I’ll hit you for real!”

Armin was probably crying at some point, because Eren— _Eren?_ —was ruffling his hair and smiling warm heartedly at him.

I hadn’t even noticed I was staring until they started practicing again.

At some point, the ball came bouncing towards the bench where I was sitting and became still after it touched my foot. I glared down at it and didn’t even notice someone was coming over my way until I saw Eren reach out of it and pick it up.

His eyes only stayed on mine for a second and then he glanced down at my notebook. His pupils dilated slightly. “Wow, that’s… did you do that? That’s amazing!”

I blinked at him. I noticed he had turquoise eyes, I’d never seen eyes like those before.

Eren made the ball spin between his hands and then smiled wide. “Did you learn by yourself?”

I lowered my head and looked at my nails. I just nodded before I took my thumb between my lips and bit down.

“Wow! That’s even more amazing! What’s your name?”

“Hey, Eren! Hurry up!” Armin screamed from behind.

“Ah! Coming!” He turned around but then looked at me over his shoulder. “Anyway, that’s really cool, man! You should follow arts or something, I’ll buy your work when you’re famous.” He looked ahead. “Though first I need to become rich…” Then, just like that, he left.

It’s funny, because sometimes all it takes is a smile from a complete stranger, or just a few words, and you’re saved in a thousand different ways.

There wasn’t anything in particular I wanted to do once I finished high school, but I loved drawing. Arts had always been something I’d considered. However, my father was against it. He was against it because _“What the hell will you do then? Sell painting on the fucking street?”_ or something like that.

But well _, fuck him_. Because Mikasa would always support me. And because Eren would buy my work. So even if I ended up selling paintings on the street, at least I had something to look forward to.

_Thank you, Eren._


End file.
